


I feel your taste all the time we're apart

by WhenasInSilks



Series: Tumblr Fics [3]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Chocolate, Earnest Belgian Lesbians, F/F, Fluff, Flustered Steve Rogers, M/M, POV Original Female Character, Smut-adjacent, Steve Rogers' Serum-Enhanced Eyelashes, Tumblr Prompt, implied inappropriate use of fondant, silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-08-19 20:48:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16541954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhenasInSilks/pseuds/WhenasInSilks
Summary: Just what is Captain America doing in a Belgian chocolatier, and why is he being so weird about it?





	I feel your taste all the time we're apart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fluffypanda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fluffypanda/gifts).



> Written for the [tumblr prompt](http://whenas-in-silks.tumblr.com/post/179232439805/whenas-in-silks-whenas-in-silks-i-need-to) "Steve running to the store to buy chocolate for Tony." No one ever ask me to write fluff again please, that was exhausting. Unbetaed. Title from The Beatles' "Savoy Truffle."

“Anneke, I don’t care if the Holy Ghost has manifested in the Market Square. I'm not moving a centimeter until I’ve finished grading these papers.”

“You don’t understand,” Anneke hisses into the phone. “He’s here. Actually here! In the _shop!_ ”

“Well,” Hilde says, with infuriating calm, “he has to be somewhere. Why not in the shop?”

“But why is he _here?”_

Over the phone line, Anneke hears the rustle of papers. There’s a faint slurping sound and then the sound of Hilde swallowing. “Maybe he’s in pursuit of evil. Think back: did you get any supervillains in with this morning’s shipment?”

“I don’t think you’re taking this at all seriously.”

A sigh. “What is he doing?”

Anneke rises on the balls of her feet. It’s a difficult angle, but she can just see a flash of blond hair through the shelves. “Just walking around. Looking at things.”

“Uh huh. Like… browsing?”

“Maybe,” Anneke allows.

“Do you think maybe he’s there to buy something? Some chocolate, maybe? That is, after all, the reason most people go to a chocolatier.”

“But why _here?”_

“Anneke, I’m hanging up now.”

“No, wait!” Anneke yelps, but it’s too late. Hilde has already gone. Anneke shoves the phone back into her pocket, muttering under her breath. “She’d come if it were _Thor_.”

She takes a deep breath, tugs sharply on her apron to straighten it, checks her hair in the reflection on the darkened screen of the cash register, and steps out from behind the counter.

The only other person in the shop is dressed in ordinary clothes, jeans and a leather jacket, with a small paper pharmacy bag clutched loosely in one hand. He has a pair of sunglasses shoved up his head, and is standing a little hunched in on himself, as if trying not to attract attention. Anneke supposes she can’t blame him. It must be difficult, being that famous.

“Good afternoon,” she says brightly.

The man— _Captain America_ —startles visibly.

“Ah,” he says, blinking his stupidly long eyelashes. Anneke makes a note to mention them to Hilde. They say everything was enhanced when he got his powers. Maybe that includes eyelashes? “Uh…”

Anneke dimples, satisfied that even if he did hear her conversation—if he has super eyelashes, it stands to reason he has super hearing as well; it would just be too ridiculous otherwise—he wouldn’t have been able to understand it.

“Good afternoon,” she says again, in English this time. “Can I help you find anything?”

“Ah! Um. Yes.” Captain America rubs his nose and clears his throat. “I was looking to buy some, um. Chocolate.”

“Well, you’ve come to the right place. What kind of chocolates were you looking to buy? Fondants? Truffles? Or—oh!—we’ve got some lovely figurines in, made specially in honor of your visit to the city—”

The Captain follows her gaze to the display case, where a miniaturized chocolate Iron Man, complete with gold leafing, stood pride of place.

“With a cherry liquor filling. We also have non-alcoholic versions, for the children. He and the Hulk have been our best sellers. Although,” she hastens to add, “all of the Avengers have proven very popular.”

“I’m… sure Iron Man’d be very pleased to hear that, ma’am,” Captain America says, a little weakly. “But I’m not really looking for anything fancy. Just… chocolate.” Then, with another glance around the shop, this time tinged with something like desperation: “Milk… chocolate?”

There comes the faint chime of a text message. Both Anneke and Captain America glance at the Captain’s pocket. Anneke waits a moment to allow him to check his phone, but he makes no attempt to do so.

“Well, we certainly have plenty of options for you. If you’d care to step this way…”

The Captain’s phone chimes again. “I’m looking for something soft,” he says, a little too loudly.

Anneke’s brow wrinkles. “Soft?”

“Something that, uh. Melts easily.” A third chime.

“Melts… like for hot chocolate?”

“Uh, no. It…”

The phone begins to ring.

Captain America’s face sets. “Apologies,” he says stonily.

Anneke waves this away. “No, no, not at all. If you need to answer—”

“I don’t.”

Anneke blinks. “But what if it’s something important?” she says, before she can help herself. It could be the King. Or the President of the United States. Or Iron Man, or—

“It isn’t,” Captain America says, very firmly. “You were saying?”

This strikes her as quite a cavalier attitude for someone charged with protecting the world. She can’t help but be a little disappointed.

“Can I ask what you’re using the chocolate for?”

Captain America chokes. “I— What I’m—”

“Is it for eating?” Anneke says patiently. He certainly is very different in person. “Or for baking? Or for—”

“Ah, yes, I see.” The Captain rubs his nose again. Anneke can’t help but notice that his face is a little flushed. Overheated, perhaps? It has been an unseasonably warm day, although the shop is temperature controlled. “Just for, um. Eating.”

“Well,” Anneke begins, “in that case—”

The phone chimes for a fourth time.

Captain America mutters a very un-Captain-America-like word under his breath, tucks the pharmacy bag under his armpit, and pulls out his phone. As Anneke watches, his face goes white, eyes seeming to pop out of his head. Then it goes even redder than before. He jams the phone hastily back into his pocket and thrusts a finger towards a nearby display. “What about those?” he asks. His voice has gone a little strange. “Milk chocolate?”

“Ah, yes,” Anneke says, looking at the box of chocolate shells and blushing herself a little.

“And you’d recommend them?”

“Certainly,” she assures him. “My wife and I are, ah. Very fond of them.” It’s true. As for the _context_ in which she and Hilde are fond of those particular chocolates— _lights dimmed low, trailing rich sweetness across the softness of Hilde’s stomach, bending to trace the patterns with her tongue—_ well. That’s a private matter, and not in the least bit relevant.

“Excellent,” he says decisively, and yes, that was far more what she’d imagined Captain America sounding like, even if his voice is still a little strangled. “I’ll take two boxes.” He pauses for just a second before adding, in tones of resignation. “And one of the Iron Mans, please. Tony’ll get a kick out of that.” He adds something under his breath, that might’ve been “even if he doesn’t deserve it,” but he’s speaking very quietly and it’s not like English is her first language, or even her second.

Anneke boxes him up one of the Iron Man figurines, then adds a Captain America alongside. “On the house,” she assures him, ignoring his protests. Everything being packaged and paid for, he’s just turning to go when the door swings open in his face.

He steps hastily backwards, and everything would have been fine if it hadn’t been for Anneke herself, rushing forward with a cry of, “Hilde!” The Captain swerves midstep to avoid her, and as he does, the paper bag from the pharmacy goes flying out from under his arm and lands across the room.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Anneke cries. “Let me get that for you.”

“No, that’s—”

But Anneke is already moving, scurrying across the room after the bag. “What are you doing here?” she throws over her shoulder, switching to Flemish.

“I came to see what all the fuss was about,” Hilde replies, unrepentant.

Anneke grabs the bag, but she’s flustered and picks up the wrong end, so the contents go spilling out onto the floor.

There’s a moment of silence as all three of them stare at the box of condoms and tube of lubricant lying in plain sight. Then Anneke hears a muffled snort. She shoots Hilde a quelling look as she hastily restores the Captain’s purchases to his bag.

Captain America is an almost inhuman shade of scarlet—maybe he has a superhuman blushing reflex as well?—and is determinedly looking anywhere but at either of their faces. “Thank you,” he says, gravely accepting the bag from Anneke. “I’ll just, ah— Have a good day, then.”

He’s slinking out the door when Anneke calls out one last time. “Captain!” And when he turns: “The chocolates you bought? An excellent choice. I think they’ll be just what you were looking for.”

Captain America smiles faintly. “Thank you, ma’am,” and with that, he’s through the doors and gone.

“You know,” Hilde says, coming to stand at Anneke’s side. “I’m glad I came after all. It was worth it just to find out you’re not the only deviant in Bruges.”

“Quiet!” Anneke says. “He’ll hear you!”

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr at [whenas-in-silks](http://whenas-in-silks.tumblr.com/) or at my marvel-centric blog, [sister-stark](http://sister-stark.tumblr.com/).


End file.
